Mangal Mangal

Four years of wait, 15th August two days away, and easily accessible desi theatre- add these up and the result is "rising" of a desire to watch the movie. I started campaigning to my friends that we should go and watch Aamir in his new movie. On friday, I went to the desi theatre- 5 minutes away from my place, and called a couple of my friends "I am buying tickets for tommorow's show, how many do you want?" Though my friends's answers did not disappoint me, the ticket seller's did. The man behind the iron bar window told me with a straight face "No tickets tommorow, today how many?" I had already discounted desis for phone or internet booking, but this... this was a little disappointing. However, riding the Aamir wave, I was still excited and decided to come a little earlier the next day.

Next day, I reach there half an hour early. I had read in the TOI that Delhi's cineplexes had the movie shows booked for atleast a month in advance, so I expected some queue here, too. There was a queue, but not in front of the ticket window, but in front of the entrance. Scared me a little, but soon I got the custody of six "Admit one" stubs (These promptly explained the logic of no advance booking). It was 105F at 3:30 PM, and heeding to the weatherman warning, I was carrying a gatorade bottle. (it was filled with my Brita's "pure" water, but that's not the point). I showed my ticket to the gujrati lady at the entrance and was rushing inside, where she interrupts me and asks, "What's in the bottle?" "Water", I promptly replied. "But that's available inside too." she frowned. I said "You see, I brought it with me, so there's no need." That brought an expression, on her face, which was more enjoyable than the whole movie itself. My das daalar vasooled right at the gate!

Finally, I got inside and grabbed the furthermost seat in the hall. While I'm cooling off, the smell inside makes me nostalgic of my college days, or rather, the indian theatres. In the dimness of the light, I can see some large speakers on the side walls. So I say to myself, the owner did not spend much money on ticketing, may be he did on the sound system. Before I'm done with the thought, a preview starts- "Maine Gandhi Ko Nahin Mara." And I console myself, the previews might be on another tape, the original movie must have "better" sound effects ("better" or may be "some"). While I was expecting more previews and some chopper circling mega structures and the sound of DTS 6.1, the movie had already started. The drums beating in the background, a mega screen filled with an army of red, a pehelwaan with a big moustache, my complaints are quickly fading away. The boss is here.

My weekend

Here's my story of the weekend-
Humans are known to be lazy (mostly). I must admit that I fall into the majority and try to procrastinate as long as I can. Every morning, while going to work, and every evening, while coming back from work, I would see the yellow sticker on my car's windshield that would remind me to get the state inspection done. This continues for three weeks until last weekend when I finally convince myself to get up early on a saturday morning (believe me, I did). I have my breakfast and by 8:30 AM I am knocking the dealer's door. It has already started to snow and I want to get back home as soon as possible. I have done my homework and therefore, I "possess" a magic coupon that offers a free-state-inspection. Ha! who could be smarter than I?

I hand my car to the dealer, and then the endless wait begins. When asked, the dealer makes a face and says- it may take four to five hours. But I am prepared for this, I've brought my own copy of the Journal, a phone with unlimited minutes plan; and of course Customer waiting area has the idiot's box. I comfortably seat myself and it does not take long for me to realize that I am the only one in the waiting area. If nobody else is waiting, why would it take so long for the inspection? Probably people have dropped off their cars and would pick up later? Nobody has a comparable patience, probably (a false sense of self-defined superiority). Boy, am I an early bird or what, even sales people haven't shown up yet. There are only some Hispanic people, climbing on those "magic" ladders, painting the ceiling. I have flipped all the pages of the paper, flipped as many channels as I could. Flipping channels was not easy, there was no remote near the TV, I actually had to go to the cable box and push the hard buttons on the box! Turning back to my phone will not help either, its Saturday morning, early to call anywhere in the world I belong. Then I dive into the dealer's treasure- outdated, unheard bunch of wooden extracts finished as glossy material, otherwise called "Magazines". I soon find out that I have successfully fathomed two-and-a-half hours. But wait, my name has not been called yet. There were few broadcasts, but you can almost never understand them. Thinking positively, I go downstairs wearing a plastic smile and hesitatingly ask my "Service Adviser" if he had paged me. He boasts that he has given me a special consideration and my car is very next in the queue. It would now only take half an hour. "Not bad", I think to myself and go back to my haven and start watching some weird comedy shows. Now even the sales floor has some activity and I could see some sales people with that "Let me have all of your money" look masked behind "How are you doing today?" face. I look out of the window, snow has started accumulating, but that does not bother me much as I would be soon out of this place. I could soon be telling people how I saved a big, mammoth fifteen dollars by just spending five hours at a dealer's place. (hmm that's $3/hour, is it legal in United States?). These thoughts are suddenly disturbed by the most awaited words- "paging for Mr Arora." I quickly pack my stuff, and rush downstairs. My service adviser smilingly says something for 2 minutes of which I could only pick three digits-"322"!!! I said, "I'm sorry, what?" and he repeats it "Your car did not pass the inspection, the front tires need to be replaced, brakes are worn out, but lets do the tires this time, it would cost you $322 and only one hour more, do you want me to go ahead and do it?"

As a smart, adamant desi, I drive back my Jetta with a failed inspection test sticker on the windshield.